


PSL (Pegasus Sign Language)

by erikahk



Series: Story Lottery Challenge [3]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-09 00:23:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1961910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erikahk/pseuds/erikahk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team has an interesting encounter with a primitive tribe offworld.</p>
            </blockquote>





	PSL (Pegasus Sign Language)

**Author's Note:**

> This is the last story written for the LJ story_lottery comm.

John walked over a fallen log and ducked under a thick branch. The strong floral scent that hovered in the humid air was almost enough to make him nauseous, and the strange singing of colorful birds grew louder the further they walked in.

Ronon hacked around with his sword, the sharp moves and the increased grunting more than enough evidence of his mounting frustration over the lack of any finding.

John was beginning to agree with Ronon. The last time they had found themselves in this scenario, he had picked up a hitchhiker and had ended up beating the crap out of himself in order to eliminate the threat. So, it wasn't for just any reason that John felt uncomfortable chasing down intense energy signatures inside an alien jungle.

"Just a bit further." Rodney said.

"You said that fifteen minutes ago," Ronon growled.

"You should see these numbers! They could very well be coming from a ZedPM!"

John turned his head back to face Rodney. "You _do_ remember what happened the last time, right?"

"C'mon!" Rodney leaned and jumped over branches. "These readings are not even close to those levels. I'm telling you! This is big!"

A twig slapped Rodney's face as he finished speaking. John chuckled over the string of curses it provoked and was tempted to make it happen again, if only to make Rodney give up this chase.

"Stupid--"

"Having problems with the jungle, Rodney?"

Rodney stepped over something black and slimy, making a disgusted face.

"No. No problem," Rodney said, a bit too fast. He waved his free hand around to shoo away a flying insect. "I can handle it."

John figured that if Rodney was so determined to continue further, then the readings must be really impressive.

"Just answer me one thing, Rodney."

"Yes?"

"You don't have a bet going on this, do you?" John glanced back.

"What?" Rodney tripped but soon recovered his footing. "Of course not!"

A sound of something heavy falling down reached his ears and John snapped to attention. He stepped ahead cautiously and saw Ronon's motionless body on the ground.

John's P90 trailed around the forest in a full circle but he saw only trees.

Another thud.

John turned around and saw Teyla unconscious as well. He signaled Rodney to his knees and narrowed his eyes in the darkness of their surroundings.

Rodney now also had his P90 pointed to the jungle, his eyes wide and his breathing fast.

John's P90 sprung to action a millisecond before a sharp pin stung his neck. He was out before he hit the ground.

OoOoO

A fierce throbbing in his head brought John back to consciousness. He moaned as he turned his head away from the brightness penetrating his shut lids and squeezed his eyes against it. He bit his lips to hold down the bile that threatened to spill from his throat and tried to breathe slowly through his nose. The strong sweet smell that still permeated the air didn't help him at all and he caught himself gagging until he managed to control the impulse. He opened his eyes slowly, soon shutting them back because of the light.

What the hell had they given him this time?

"John?" Teyla mumbled. 

Good. She was with him, which meant there was a chance he would see his whole team once he was able to open his eyes. She sounded okay and that gave him an extra boost of confidence.

"Teyla?" He turned his head and shielded the brightness of the sun with his hands. When he opened his eyes, he saw her shape shadowing him and a yellow aura around her hair. She was smiling slightly.

"You okay?" he asked her. 

"We're fine, John."

 _We_.

"That depends on what you call _fine_ ," Rodney grumbled.

John sat up slowly, groaning on the way up, and saw Rodney still on the ground, eyes shut and hands holding his head. 

"This is worse that that time I tried Radek's moonshine," Rodney moaned. 

John wanted to tell Rodney to stop talking because his voice was going straight into his skull, but John wasn't sure he would be able to hold in the bile this time. He decided to have a look around, squinting his eyes to absorb the most of the surrounding environment without making his head explode too much.

They were in a wooden cage in the middle of a large clearing in the jungle. Their guns and vests were gone, and there were no hostiles around. Ronon sat against one corner, looking like crap but unharmed like the rest of his team. In fact, Ronon not being up and kicking the bars of the cage concerned John. 

"You okay, big guy?" John asked.

A grunt was all the response he got. 

"What about those knives?" They would certainly be useful right now. 

"Got none." 

"All of them?" 

Another grunt, angrier this time.

John nodded. These guys must really be good. He had yet to see their faces and they had been able to strip Ronon of every knife.

"Okay, I'll say what's on everyone's mind. We're screwed," Rodney said.

"Atlantis will come in..." John looked at his wrist. His watch was also gone. "Any minute." 

"Really? How are they going to find us, huh? They can't come by jumper because of this stupid jungle. We're probably in the middle of nowhere, no idea where the gate is and it's going to take days until they find us, and only if they manage to get past the primitive natives with the poisonous darts." 

At that moment, John saw several pairs of eyes peering from the forest. Soon, a dozen short dark men surrounded the cage. They were bare-chested with no hair on their bodies and had a black circle around each of their eyes. They looked curiously at the team.  
John stood up slowly, followed by his team.

A few moments of silence passed until the older of them, a small man with deep wrinkles on his face and body, stepped forward and began moving his hands around, making shapes in the air with a speed that was hard to follow.  
The team glanced at one another. When the elder finished, John took one step closer to the wooden bars. 

"Uh..." He opened and closed his mouth. "My name is John Sheppard," he said hastily. "And this is Teyla, Ronon and Doctor McKay." He waved at each team member.  
The dark man tilted his head slightly and took a few seconds before repeating the hand waving gestures.

John frowned and looked at his team. They all raised an eyebrow.

"Look," John raised his hand towards the men outside, "we didn't mean to trespass or anything. We are peaceful explorers." The men just continued to stare in wonder. "If you let us go and return our equipment, we will leave you alone." John tried a faint smile, unsure if it would be the right approach. 

The natives exchanged glances of confusion. A young man turned to the elder and began gesticulating wildly. The elder responded, but was interrupted by another old man who waved hands and arms around in a slower speed.

"Okay, this is different," John said.

He was used to seeing all sorts of things in offworld missions, but this was a first. John narrowed his eyes, trying to get a clue about what was being said. Hands, arms, torso and head moved in a complex language and after several seconds John was still no closer to knowing what to do. He turned at Teyla, who was standing beside him.

"Have you ever seen anything like this?" he whispered.

She shook her head. "No, I have not." She looked as bewildered as the rest of the team.

"They're not making any sound," Ronon said.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Wow, really? I thought I was going deaf!"

Ronon growled. "I mean they aren’t grunting or anything."

"Okay, how do we communicate with people who either can't or won't speak to us?" John asked.

Ronon tested the bars. "I say we just break out." He turned to them. "We can take'em."

John still had a hammer in his head, so fighting his way out wasn't really his first choice at the moment.

"They appear to be discussing our fate." Teyla still watched the primitives closely.

John had noticed how they turned and waved at the team in the middle of their frantic gesticulating. A few moments passed until all the men raised their hands in unison and clapped once.

John glanced to his side without turning his head. "I think they're done discussing."

The elder picked up a small leather bag hanging on his rope belt and sat down with his legs crossed. He then started drawing symbols on the dirt in a five by five pattern. All the tribesmen made a circle around him and sat as well.

Rodney approached John's side. "Those are Ancient symbols," he whispered.

The old man closed his eyes and raised both hands up in front of his head. He waited a few seconds in that position and then lowered them, putting one hand inside the leather bag. All the men in the circle shook their arms around, eyes closed in some kind of trance. When the elder pulled his hand from the bag, it was holding a small black pebble. He opened his eyes to look at it and put it on one of the markings on the ground. John noticed the pebble had the same symbol as the one drawn on the earth. The elder repeated the action six times and ended up with a four cornered pattern with two pebbles in the center. Everyone closed their eyes and raised hands together.

After several minutes of silence, the elder stood up, followed by the other men. Two of the youngest of the group went into the jungle and returned a few moments later carrying all of the team's weapons, vests and equipment. A middle aged man approached the cage and opened it, inviting the team outside, a smile on his face.

John stepped out cautiously, his team behind him. He watched the natives' reactions as they smiled and allowed the team to exit. The team's equipment was placed on the ground and all the primitive men stepped away, waving their hands and lowering their heads. John quickly picked up his vest and guns, Ronon, Rodney and Teyla following his lead.

After the team was done, the elder stepped forward and waved towards the forest. He tilted his head to a symbol carved on the trunk of a tree. It was a circle with eight triangles distributed around it, and an address symbol in the center. John guessed that it must mean the stargate. He looked back to the old man, who pointed a finger to the path leading from clearing. When the team didn’t move, the elder waved both hands, shooing the team away. 

John didn’t understand the reason they were being released, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He shrugged at his team and headed into the jungle, looking behind once to see the group of tribesmen watching them.

“Did anyone understand that?” Rodney asked after a few seconds. “Because I’m totally lost on the significance of that ceremony.”

“I think it was their way to speak to the Ancestors,” Teyla said from the rear.

John turned his head to the team. “A team of anthropologists would love to study these people.” 

“Not to mention Carson to find out why the hell they didn’t speak a word at all.”

“Well,” John said as he stepped over a stone. “Either way, they’ll have to be careful about them.” 

“No kidding. I still feel like I’m going to throw up any minute,” Rodney said.

John heard Ronon grunt and felt his own stomach rebelling. Silence fell and the team followed the carved signs for about twenty minutes until they reached the gate. John looked back one final time as the gate kawooshed to life, nodding at the dark eyes watching them, then stepped through to home.


End file.
